


Taste the Flesh

by partyoncas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bottom Sam, Dean Has Powers, Demon Blood, Demon Blood Addict Sam, Demon Blood Addiction, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Incest, Knifeplay, Knight of Hell Dean, M/M, Plot What Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Sam Has Powers, Sam On Demon Blood, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Siblings, Top Dean, Topping from the Bottom, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2053686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partyoncas/pseuds/partyoncas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester, a man who has faced all imaginable horrors, does not fear much in life. The mark of Cain has undone all the complexities that are Dean, things he has spent his entire life memorizing, and that is enough to make him feel like he’s drowning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste the Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic posted here, first Supernatural fic, and first ever Wincest fic. These boys are breaking my heart. Not beta read. Spoilers, I suppose, for 9x23 and possibly parts of season 10.

“C’mon, Sammy. Let’s have a beer. Talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!”

The voice is all Dean, but Sam knows it is not his brother at all. Sam Winchester, a man who has faced all imaginable horrors, does not fear much in life. The mark of Cain has undone all the complexities that are so _Dean_ , things he has spent his entire life memorizing, and that is enough to make him feel like he’s drowning.

Sam rounds the corner, certain he will see his brother sauntering down the hall. He is greeted instead with emptiness, and finally releases a breath he’s been holding so long his lungs are on fire. Turning around again, its instincts honed by years of hunting that tell him to duck in time for the weapon of choice to embed itself in the wall instead of his skull. Bringing the knife to the demon’s throat is as easy as recalling an exorcism. As ritualistic as a simple salt-and-burn-job.

“Do it. It’s all you.”

It’s then Sam falters. He’s overcome by the click of Dean’s tongue and the way the set of his jaw changes, leaving his mouth slightly agape, head lowering as if to push the blade through his neck himself. Sam swallows as his brother’s eyes flicker from black to a stare that bleeds menace.  The spike of lust that stabs him in the gut is dangerously sharp, and Sam knows Dean is taunting him, but in that moment, he decides has nothing left to lose.

Going from zero to ninety in no time at all, Sam fists his hand into the short hair on the back of Dean’s head, and yanks him in. Dean allows it. Ruby’s knife nicks his throat, and he makes a feral sound that begins to cascade into victorious laughter, until—

_Oh._

Even the darkest parts of Dean forget how to function when kissing Sam Winchester. It’s desperate and wild, and reminds Dean of the way his brother fights: with the intention of leaving no survivors. But Dean sees there are no enemies here—only lips and groping hands, nails digging into skin, all leading to a burning need that coils so deep inside Dean that he _whimpers_ against Sam’s mouth. His brother’s lips are warm and bloodied from the force of their impact, and without thinking Dean laps at it, the taste ripping a groan from his mouth. The demon inside of him roars in an attempt to remind Dean what he’s become, screaming at him to stop being foolish.

He fights back. Dean Winchester, the miraculous Dean Winchester, simply does not care. He translates the violence still raging just below the surface into a sudden twist of his body that results in Sam being slammed against the wall. Dean creates an entirely new language in the way he slides his hands down his brother’s torso, grabbing at his sides hard enough to bruise. Sam takes advantage of his brother’s panting, his tongue claiming the small space between Dean’s lips and mapping out his mouth. They shudder in unison, feeling like they’re on fire beneath their clothes.

“Dean…” Sam manages during a pause, voice absolutely wrecked. Dean pulls back, so caught up in _Sam_ that his eyes have gone black outside of his own control. Sam’s gaze lowers to the knife he somehow still has pressed to his brother’s throat, focusing on the blood welling up. Something dark flares up in Sam, something he thought he’d buried far underground. He burns with the memory of this—this terrible _thing_ he used to hide away in secret from Dean.

“Do it,” Dean repeats his line from earlier, meeting his brother’s gaze. Sam lets the hand holding the knife drop to his side, blade still secure in his grip. His teeth find the pulse point on Dean’s neck and he bites down without hesitation. “Fuck, Sammy, please.”

Sam licks a stripe downwards, keening when the taste of blood explodes across his tongue. To hell with it all—if Dean is dammed, Sam might as well be too. Growling, he surges forward, forgetting how Dean could easily toss him away with a simple thought. Dean allows Sam to push him backwards until he’s the one pinned against the opposite wall. Sam’s cock twitches with interest, finding there to be something deeply provocative about a being as powerful as his brother allowing him to dominate. Sam pulls their bodies flush, taking a moment to grind their hardening dicks together, before shoving his hands under Dean’s top layer. The demon catches on, helping the shirt fall to the floor. Making a frustrated sound, Sam takes Ruby’s knife and shreds the front of Dean’s final layer, peeling it from his brother’s chest. His brother hisses in pain, and Sam knows he sliced skin in his hurry.

He leans back, taking in the site of blood slowly trickling from the wound on Dean’s neck to pool in the dips of his collarbones. Sam drags his nails across the new cuts that formed in his enthusiasm. He locks eyes with his brother and licks the blood from his fingers, one by one, intent on not wasting a single drop. Dean’s hips roll forward reflexively, accompanied by a disgraceful moan. In an instant he has reclaimed Sam’s lips, delighting in the taste of himself in Sam’s mouth. He basks in the glow of the power that he can feel radiating off his younger brother.

Dean’s hands settle on the curve of Sam’s ass and he jerks his hips up with more pressure, more force, seeking out as much friction as possible. The hardness that pushes back in response is feels familiar despite being all-too new. It’s the sound of Sam’s responding groan and the way his baby brother looks down at him with half-lidded eyes that finally rips Dean’s self-control to pieces, leaving him aching and panting _godSammyfucknotenough._

Dean grips Sam tighter, and without pause they are suddenly stumbling around Sam’s bedroom. Dean zaps away, just far enough to be out of reach, leering at his younger brother. Sam recovers from the sudden change of location, and notes Dean is obviously very proud of himself for what he’s done. Before Dean can make a sly remark about it, he’s been set upon.

Sam gets to work latching his mouth on a particularly tempting cut on his brother’s skin. He nips at the wound, working it open further. He feels his mind sharpen as he drinks in. The typically human tang of metal is still there, and the heavenly taste that’s all demon does not escape him. But there’s something more; something hot and alive that explodes across his mouth and makes Sam melt from the inside out. It’s unmistakably Dean, unmistakably powerful, and he can’t help the sob that rips from his throat.

Dean tears at Sam’s clothing, spurred on by his brother’s ministrations. They claw viciously at each other and don’t think twice about the angry red lines such desperation will leave later. The brothers take each other in, both keenly aware of the electricity already dancing below Sam’s skin, both of them completely hard now. With a thought and a ceremonious wave of the demon knife still clenched in his fist, Sam has Dean up against the bedroom wall. He strides forward, pressing their naked bodies together. His free hand slides down Dean’s front, feeling the muscles rippling beneath skin as Dean struggles. Sam teases his fingers over his brother’s erection, Dean flashes his typical cocksure grin, eyes blinking to back to black, and Sam finds their positions switched before he can have his fun. His head cracks against the wall and the mental hold he had on Dean is broken. Sam knows he could never overpower his brother like this, but _fuck_ , is it a turn on to try.

“Dean—please, let me—” Sam gasps, cut short by Dean’s hand grasping his cock and giving it a few languid strokes.

“Let you what, Sammy boy?”

“Dammit, Dean, please…” After a few more touches, Dean releases his brother’s cock and Sam immediately drops to his knees, latching teeth onto the nearest slope of Dean’s skin. Sam brings Ruby’s knife to Dean’s thigh, distracting him from the motion by continuing his ravishing at the delicious curve of Dean’s hipbone. He ghosts the blade’s tip along the sensitive skin there before digging it in suddenly. This cut is deeper than the others, and Dean screams, the knife burning as blood pours out. Dean fucking loves this, watching Sam turn into a predator. Looking down in time to see the blade clatter to the floor, to watch Sam’s hands grabbing at hips as if it could ever restrain a Knight of Hell, he groans at the site of Sam’s mouth finding the open wound.

Sam burns up inside. The quicker flow of blood coming into him leaves him with a dizzy feeling he wishes he never had to forget. This is like nothing else; Dean is stronger than any demon he’s ever tasted, and Sam relishes in knowing it’s all for him. He snaps away from his daydream, stopping his intake of blood. Sam places a hand over the cut, soaking it, before transferring his grip straight to Dean’s erection. Dean hisses at the contact, grateful to finally be touched, and the aching inside roars further to life.

The younger Winchester chases the smear of blood, licking teasingly at the tip, and it takes everything Dean has not to grab his brother’s head and fuck straight into his mouth. Sam slowly wraps his lips around Dean’s cock, licking him clean and hungrily chasing the blood all the way down until Dean is fully in Sam’s throat. Not even a whimper escapes Sam, and Dean wonders, briefly, where Sam became so good at this, because if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he doesn’t know what is.

Sam reaches for Dean’s hand, and forcibly shoves it towards the back of his head. Getting the message, Dean twines his fingers through his brother’s hair, and in that moment he is thankful all his teasing never made Sam cut it off. Dean pulls and rubs at Sam’s scalp as his brother mouths his dick. Hell, Dean would do anything to make sure this continues forever—it’s maddening, and he bucks his hips forward despite himself.

Sam pulls off with a smack of his lips. Dean desperately shoves Sam’s head back down, but the younger brother resists with a grin, managing to overpower Dean in his compromised state. Sam finally dips forward again, bringing Dean back into his mouth but refuses to move, not even giving a lick of his tongue. Sam sooths his fingers over Dean’s hips, a gentle reminder he shouldn’t dare move. Dean gulps down air, resisting again the burn that tells him to thrust forward and force Sam to give him what he wants. He’s rewarded soon enough when Sam goes back to caressing his dick with his mouth, and it’s then he allows himself to push into the warmth.

“Sam… fuck, Sammy, I’m gonna—” Sam doesn’t relent. Continuing his worship of Dean’s cock, he swirls his tongue instead of easing off. Dean pulls hard on Sam’s hair, snapping his head back, and is met by eyes that are now as black as his own. Tipped right to the edge as he is, it’s almost enough to finish Dean, and with a snarl he throws Sam backwards for his defiance.

“Up,” the demon commands. Sam whines, hesitating to stand, and knows he’s made the wrong choice when he’s hauled to his feet by rough hands and thrown across the room, trajectory stopped only by him crashing into the bed. Sam scrambles to an upright position, gasping and leaning against the frame for support. Dean is striding towards him again, hand raised warningly.

“You sure think you’re something, now don’t you, Sammy boy?” Sam opens his mouth to speak, but with a flick of his wrist, Dean has him facedown in the covers. Sam moves to adjust himself but the bed dips with Dean’s weight before he can turn back around. Dean pulls roughly at Sam, shoving him into position with ease. Sam is left with his ass in the air, bent forward and scrambling to brace himself against Dean’s rutting. He feels his brother’s hand snake around his waist to grab his cock and moans unrestrained when he’s being touched again. Dean works his mouth down Sam’s spine, biting down hard enough to break skin until Sam is babbling nonsense. One quick thought and Dean has conjured the blade into his hand, spinning it between his fingers

“Dean, fuck, Dean just, please…” Sam looks over his shoulder to see Dean with Ruby’s knife and a self-satisfied smirk. With Sam watching, he makes a practiced slice down his brother’s side. Groaning, Sam grinds backwards into Dean’s fat cock.

“ _Sam._ ” Dean has said his name thousands of times; it’s nothing new, but the way Dean drops his voice has it vibrating through him, and he knows the tone belongs only to this version of his brother. He stills. He doesn’t dare to even quiver as his brother’s fingers sop up the blood flowing from the gouge he formed. His compliance is rewarded with the rough intrusion of Dean’s finger, covered in red slick. Sam knows it should hurt, but hopped up on demon blood, the pain is twisted into pleasure. Dean rubs the spot inside of Sam that makes him think _goddammitnotholdingstillanymore,_ but Dean pulls away too soon and Sam sobs at the loss, shoving his hips backwards.

One digit then becomes two, coated with blood, and two becomes three, stretching Sam open skillfully. Dean drags his fingers over Sam’s prostate more forcefully before pulling out to grab his dick, leaving his brother moaning into the bed, fisting the sheets until he’s white-knuckled. Dean drags more of Sam’s blood onto his cock, hissing at the warmth of it. He pushes his tip into Sam, relishing in how his brother writhes, the teasing driving him mad.

“Not enough for you, baby brother?” Not keen on waiting for an answer, Dean bottoms out in a single thrust and immediately sets a bruising pace, causing a scream to rip from Sam’s throat. And Sam doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the scars this night will leave or the blood left in their wake. All he cares about is the relentless snapping of Dean’s hips against him and the sinful sounds pouring like blood from his brother’s lips.

Dean yanks suddenly at Sam, pulling him upwards until his back is flush to his front, fucking into his brother’s tight hole without pause. The change of angle has Dean’s cock striking up against Sam’s prostate. Lost in the white-hot pleasure, Sam hardly feels Dean pressing the knife into his grip again. He takes it, not understanding until Dean offers his hand to him.

“C’mon, take it. Take more of me,” Dean demands. Sam shakes as he grabs his brother’s wrist and drags the knife across the unmarred palm, fumbling to press the open wound to his mouth. He practically comes right then, feeling his favorite addiction flowing into his veins, and he whimpers against Dean’s hand.

“Fuck, baby, you could come just like this, couldn’t you? Just like this, off of only my blood and cock inside you,” Dean marks his words with more violent thrusts, stopping the flow of blood into Sam’s mouth and sliding his hand down to wrap around his brother’s throat. He knows, in his powered-up state, Sam doesn’t _technically_ need to breath at all, but the thought alone is enough for the both of them to climb closer to the edge. Dean presses down harder, and Sam stops meeting his brother’s thrusts, body going rigid outside of his control.

“That’s it, Sammy,” Dean groans against Sam’s ear, “come for me.”

Dean releases him, and Sam paints stripes of white onto the sheets, coming with a cry of Dean’s name. He falls forward again, fighting the urge to go limp from the force of his orgasm, struggling to meet Dean’s thrusts again. Dean grips at Sam’s hips, helping him stay steady, and is satisfied with the tearing of flesh as his nails dig in. Sam hisses and clenches around his brother. Dean knows that’s it; he falters and bucks forward one last time, orgasm tearing through him, hotter than the burn of the demon blade.

The bed dips as Dean collapses next to Sam, and after a few moments the younger Winchester lifts himself enough to turn and face Dean. He is surprised to be greeted by a gaze that is an all-too familiar green, the wild edge from before toned down. A wave of adoration comes over Sam, and cautiously he reaches an arm around Dean, dragging him closer. The demon grumbles something about no chick flick moments, and Sam laughs, genuinely laughs for what feels like the first time in an eternity, all hesitation fading away.

“Whatever, jerk.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” Dean wrenches an arm free from their tangled limbs and waves his hand, sending Sam onto his back. He hauls himself up and straddles his brother, only to find Sam smirking up at him, and that moment Dean knows that somehow, someway, they will make this twisted, fucked-up mess they’re in work.


End file.
